


You're always riding (riding my way)

by JustLikeTomo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:11:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLikeTomo/pseuds/JustLikeTomo
Summary: Louis is Harry's uber driver and Harry is a drunk idiotBased on a tumblr post:Louis: straight?Harry: nah, gayLouis: ...Harry: ...Louis: ...Harry: sorry, I mean yes go straight





	You're always riding (riding my way)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is short and a mess, but I hope you like it anyway
> 
> The Tumblr post is from the user paynner

Harry is… well, he’s a little drunk.

It’s all Niall’s fault. Really it is.

Harry had been planning to spend the night at home with a bottle of wine and a crossword, which sounds relatively pathetic, but Harry would have enjoyed himself all the same. It’s cold outside and he’s tired from a long week of work and he just wanted the comfort of his home and more importantly his sofa.

Niall, however, had refused to let that happen. Apparently, Harry has been single for too long. Apparently, he needs to get laid. There might be some merit to that, considering how the only action his bedroom has seen in the past few months is Harry wanking to mediocre porn. Lately, he hasn’t even bothered with that. So, yeah, maybe Niall has a point.

Niall knew a friend of a friend who was also “gagging for a dick in his arse.”

(Harry screwed his face up at that)

“Come on, mate. Ben said he’s well fit. For me?”

Harry, being the dimwit that he is, couldn’t think up an excuse quickly enough and Niall had quickly taken Harry’s stuttering nonsense of a response as a yes.

Connor (that’s the guy’s name – Harry thinks) turned out to be fit-ish, but his personality was fucking dire. Harry couldn’t get a word in half the time and honestly Harry couldn’t give a shit about the big bonus Connor was due to get next month. He was a self-entitled prick and Harry had texted Niall a strongly worded message beneath the table, cursing him out for ruining what could have been a lovely, cozy evening in his flat.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Connor had said when Harry ordered his third glass of wine.

“I have a high tolerance,” Harry had replied, despite the fact his cheeks were obviously flushed and his eyes a little glassy.

Connor had frowned at him, but quickly carried on with his spiel about tax ratings.

What a _bore._

“So, what do you say – wanna come back to my place?” Connor asks as they finally leave the restaurant.

“Sorry, I have work early tomorrow,” Harry lies.

“On a Saturday?” he asks, frowning. “Niall told me you’re a teacher.”

“Yes, well, I have a Saturday job too.”

“Alright, mate. Text me. We should meet up again.”

“Sure,” Harry says with a grimace.

“C’mere,” Connor says, “let me kiss you goodnight.”

Harry coughs and steps back when Connor tugs on the hem of his coat. “Sorry, garlic breath.”

“Harry, you’re fit as fuck. I don’t care about garlic breath.”

“Well, I do. Next time, okay?”

Connor sighs, but nods. “Can I give you a lift home?”

“I think I’m going to walk, thanks.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I live pretty close,” Harry lies.

Connor leans forward and kisses Harry’s cheek. “See you around then?”

“Definitely.”

Harry breathes a sigh of relief the moment he’s alone, rubbing his hands over his face. _Finally_ , he thinks. Finally he can go home.

It doesn’t take long for the Uber he calls to show up and it’s a good job because it’s freaking freezing outside and Harry really does feel pretty tipsy, swaying a little where he stands. He just wants to have a cup of tea and get into bed. He feels like he could sleep for days.

A sleek black car pulls up to the curb and the window rolls down, a head poking out, a soft voice saying, “You waiting for an Uber?”

Harry nods a little dumbly because the driver is fucking beautiful. Soft, tousled hair, sharp cheekbones, and blue, blue eyes. Harry swallows thickly as he gets into the back of the car, biting his lip as they start to drive off.

He’s not really paying attention to where they’re going, too busy staring at the way the driver’s arm muscles shift as he works the gearshift and his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Straight?” the driver asks. His voice is so lovely, so pretty, so soft and melodic.

“Nah, gay,” Harry replies without thinking.

Then- _oh shit._ He was asking for  _directions._

It’s silent and it’s awkward and Harry is dying on the inside. He wants to sink through the seat and out the bottom of the car where he’ll hopefully be run over by the car behind.

“Sorry,” Harry squeaks, looking out the window to gather his bearings, “I mean, yes, go straight.”

Only Harry. Only Harry can make such a blundering fool out of himself. It was such a simple question, so why oh why did he fail at being a normal human being. He’s a mess, honestly.

He’s nearly home, thank god. Just a few more minutes of this extremely uncomfortable silence and it’ll all be over. He can go to bed in shame, bury himself under his covers and never face the light of day ever again.

**

"I hate you," Harry tells Niall. "You made me make an idiot of myself in front of the fittest boy ever."

"Mate, you do that to yourself on a daily basis."

"Rude."

**

It’s several weeks later that it happens again.

Harry is at Ed’s pub in South London and it’s late and he’s a little cranky because a kid threw up on him at work, so he bids everyone goodnight and calls for an Uber. He’s engrossed in a book he’s reading on his Kindle app on his phone, so he doesn’t really pay any attention to who is driving the car, until a soft voice says, “I feel like you’ve been my passenger already.”

Harry looks up from his phone, the voice vaguely familiar, and – forgive him, he’s a little drunk again – he says, “Yeah! I feel like I’ve ridden you before!”

It falls silent and that’s when Harry remembers and… yeah. Wow.

This is so much worse than last time.

Harry… he wants to fucking _die._

“Right…” the driver says.

“Look, fuck, I’m sorry. That came out wrong,” Harry says, dropping his face into his hands.

It’s quiet for another prolonged moment and then the driver giggles. Honest, swear to god, _giggles._

“Mate, you’re something else,” the driver says.

“I’m not always like this, I swear.”

“So I guess I’m special then, huh?”

Harry looks up and a zip of pleasure shoots down his spine when their eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The man is smiling softly at him, his eyes warm even in the darkness.

“We’re here,” he says quietly.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Harry says, scrambling to undo his seatbelt.

“No need to apologise. I’m Louis, by the way.”

“Harry,” Harry says, smiling shyly.

“Well, Harry. I have to say: it was a pleasure to have you riding me tonight.”

Harry bursts out laughing, a loud barking thing, and flushes bright red. Jesus, he’s so embarrassing.

“Hey, how do you fancy going for another ride some time?”

“As in…”

“Yeah, Curly.”

Honestly, what is Harry’s life?

**

"Yeah, baby," Louis pants, "riding me so good."

"'m your favourite passenger."

"Yeah, fuck yeah."

**

Harry isn’t thinking when it happens. He doesn’t _mean_ it.

Him and Louis have been dating for six months now and it’s been wonderful and joyous and Harry only embarrasses himself around him about fifty percent of the time. This though… this is just about the worst of it.

“Hello?” Louis says when he answers the phone.

Harry smiles, pulling at a loose bit of thread on his tracksuit bottoms. “Hiya, baby.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I was just wondering what time you would get off work. I cooked the eggplant the way you like it. It’s in the oven.”

“In a bit! Thanks so much, love. You’re too good to me.”

Harry flushes with pleasure, biting down on his bottom lip. “It’s not a problem. Just make sure that _your_ eggplant is ready for me tonight.”

It goes quiet for a moment and Harry frowns, worried that he’s gone too far. But then-

“Harry, I currently have a passenger. You’re on loudspeaker…”

“Yo what the _fuck,”_ Harry hears someone say in the background.

(Shit, shit, shit)

“Um,” Harry squeaks, “sorry, Lou.”

He can hear Louis apologizing to his passenger and, honestly, when will Harry ever learn?

"It's okay, love," Louis says. Amusement is clear in his voice and Harry breathes out a sigh of relief. "No harm done."

"Speak for your fucking self," Harry hears the passenger mutter.

"I'll see you at home," Louis says, "with my eggplant ready."

Harry laughs and laughs and laughs.

**

Harry is an embarrassing idiot, but Louis loves him just the same.

It's actually kind of wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/JustLikeTomo)


End file.
